“Give sorrow words; the grief that does not speak knits up the o-er wrought heart and bids it break.” ― William Shakespeare, Macbeth

Sometimes its just plain Sh!t… – by Simone

Today is one of those days. Just a complete emotional all-fall-down day. In fact the last few days have been tougher than normal. And today its 2 years and 1 month since our darling Bella left us.

Sometimes you know exactly where these real emotional lows come from, and other times they just hit you from out of nowhere. I know exactly why I am feeling the way I am feeling but the extent of how and what I am feeling has taken even me by surprise. More recently I have been doing well I think – well relatively anyway. I have been feeling like I am generally coping okay with life, that I can maybe move to seeing my psychologist once every 2 weeks rather than once a week. The thought of going off my anti-depressants isn’t there (please, please keep giving me the meds! 🙂 ) but I feel like generally the waves that hit me on a daily basis are mostly manageable. And then a whole lot of waves come along and hit you with such force, wave after wave, pushing you under, not allowing you to catch a breath even for a minute. And you feel like you are back right at the beginning.

I guess the recent downhill run started because James, Murray, Connie and I all got sick. Nothing major at all but just not feeling great, not able to face the world with the strength that is required. I took Murray to his beloved Paediatrician, and for the first time ever he had a complete meltdown with him. Complete and totally, the worst I have seen in a long time. Exactly like the ones he used to have just after Bella died when he had no way to communicate how he was feeling and the only thing he could do was completely melt down. It was totally awful. I felt completely helpless, useless and without the strength to deal with it in the way that I knew that I needed to. I felt like the worse mom in the whole world. As a Mom all you want to do is be able to protect your child, to make them feel safe and calm. To be able to protect them from the hardship of life. And Murray’s meltdown made me realise that this little boy is dealing with so much, just like James and I, and we can’t protect him from all of that. And so started the meltdown.

As I have mentioned briefly in some previous posts, we are trying desperately to have another baby, and unfortunately things are not going as we had hoped. I am having major fertility issues and have been seeing a wonderful fertility specialist since the beginning of the year. To say that she is bending over backwards to try and help us have a baby is an understatement! I have had 4 operations, fertility drugs, artificial insemination, IVF, and we are still not pregnant. We are actively making this decision to try and have another baby. We are choosing to follow this road, one which everybody warns you is so, so hard. But sometimes, when most things over the last 2 years have been so damn hard you kind of hope that maybe luck will be on your side for a change, and that just maybe maybe, things might go according to plan. No such luck!

So back to the last few days, I have been feeling emotionally challenged and physically I have been feeling off – not myself at all – and I had started to feel what I thought could be some early pregnancy signs. And I just hoped against all hope, that maybe our luck had turned, that maybe I might be pregnant. The long and the short of it is that we aren’t and that I start another round of IVF tomorrow. And to be honest, that just sucks. There is no other word for it.

I took Murray to a great play place this morning to have some fun, and there were parents with new babies EVERYWHERE. Toddlers that were the age Bella would be, younger babies that were the age Thomas would have been, and little babies like what we yearn for so so badly. Its an actual physical reaction. I feel it in the pit of my stomach, it makes me want to cry, double over and weep. I want to grab one of those babies and hold them to me, drinking it in, wishing they were my own. But in another way, I can’t even look at the little babies, because I know that I won’t be able to hold it together and that I will collapse in a heap.

I know that we are actively making this decision to go down this road that we are on. We could decide to protect ourselves from this heartache by not trying to have another baby, but somehow the thought of not even trying to have another baby is worse than the thought of trying and failing. And so we are in the thick of it, choosing to try again month after month, and welcoming this constant disappointment into our lives.

I know that tomorrow I will pick myself up again, soldier on, put a smile on my face, carry on walking forward. But for today…I sit down and weep…for all that life has handed us that I wish it hadn’t…for how different I wish life was…for the simplicity I wish we had…and mostly for our darling Bella and Thomas…without whom sometimes life just feels too damn hard.

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Dear Simone, I’m so sorry that every thing is just piling on you. Grief, failed treatments… I don’t know if you’re doing standard IVF, but assuming so, all those injections and meds and hopes and dreams… I hope this week will be the last one you need. So few people talk about their ivf journeys, thank you for giving readers a glimpse of this part of your life too. May it work, and may it result in a sibling that Murray will ‘grow old with.’